


the stars are shining red and blue

by Purpleologist



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Future, Attempted Kidnapping, Criminal Keith (Voltron), Enemies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, White-Haired Keith (Voltron), mentioned/implied James Griffin/Ina Liefsdottir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleologist/pseuds/Purpleologist
Summary: Akira Kogane was known for five things in the Western Sector of the American Empire:-His eyes, a shining unnatural indigo that was no doubt the effect of layered mutations-His knife, sharp and with deadly accuracy, known to leave marks and often mistaken as a sword in some accounts of his escapades-His scar, running down his left cheek, story untold.-His hair, white as snow and obviously dyed, but iconic nonetheless.And his ruthless behavior, his inability to feel, to empathize, to understand when to stop. People feared him because he wasn’t afraid to cross boundaries, and that was just how he wanted it.





	1. Keith

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another attempt at Klance AU Month! For this one, I’m _aiming_ at Leakira, but I’m gonna be honest, it’s a bit of a stretch. This is more of a “Based on my novel” AU, but it’s dystopian and Akira is mentioned as Keith's alias so it _counts._

Keith watched the stars from under the hood of his jacket, the bustle of the noisy market dimming as the night went on. The cold steel of his knife pressed against the inside of his arm, hidden up his sleeve as he cased the people surrounding him. Tonight, one of them would feel his blade, and it was only a matter of picking which one.

He wandered amongst the thinning crowd, hand darting out almost invisibly to snag an apple sitting on a nearby stand. The man behind the stand didn’t bat an eye, which was a goddamn shame, and Keith scowled as he took a bite of the wax-like fruit. It was a poor mock-up of the fruits that existed centuries ago, but it was the closest thing to nutrition left in this god-forsaken world.

In moments, there was nothing but the fake core left, and he dropped it to the ground, shoving past a loitering teenager.

“Watch it,” he spat, glaring down his nose at him. His dark brown hair had an obnoxious curl and his military uniform spoke for his accomplishments.

“Sorry, Officer Griffin,” Keith told him, barely glancing at the name tag on his chest. He raised his eyes, smiling wickedly when the soldier recognized their ethereal purple and the scar marring his cheek. “Guess I just don’t learn.”

Officer Griffin’s hand flew to his waistband, reaching for his gun. “Akira Kogane, you’re under arrest—”

“Looking for this?” he twirled the laser gun in one hand, admiring the barrel. “You should really remember who you’re working with.”

Griffin’s bracelet beeped, a message flashing on the screen. The name “Ina” scrolled across it and Keith grinned as the young man went pale.

“Got a soft spot for a little lady, huh?” he teased, waving the gun in his face. “Wonder what she’d do if I sent you home with a couple extra holes.”

“Leave her out of this,” Griffin demanded, hand flying to cover his bracelet. Those devices were only reserved for those who could afford it, only those rich enough, _entitled_ enough to waste their money on needless fancy toys instead of helping the hundreds of young people suffering in the slums.

“Not a chance, pretty boy,” Keith told him, socking him square across the face. He stumbled, but regained his composure, the crowd parting as Keith pushed the hood of his stolen jacket back and displayed his bleached-white hair for all the spectators to see.

Akira Kogane was known for five things in the Western Sector of the American Empire:

  * His eyes, a shining unnatural indigo that was no doubt the effect of layered mutations
  * His knife, sharp and with deadly accuracy, known to leave marks and often mistaken as a sword in some accounts of his escapades
  * His scar, running down his left cheek, story untold.
  * His hair, white as snow and obviously dyed, but iconic nonetheless.



And his ruthless behavior, his inability to feel, to empathize, to understand when to stop. People feared him because he wasn’t afraid to cross boundaries, and that was just how he wanted it.

“AKIRA KOGANE, STAND DOWN!” an officer across the market square shouted, laser gun charging with a familiar whir. Keith rolled his eyes, spinning around and leveling Griffin’s gun at the new opponent.

“Do you know how many times I’ve heard someone say that?” he asked, exasperated. “Get some new lines, I’m begging you.”

“In the name of Lord Altea of Altea Quadrant and Emperor Zarkon of the American Empire, you are ordered to _stop_!”

Keith took a few steps forward, daring the soldier to fire, daring him to make a move in retaliation. His eyes glinted dangerously as he grew close enough to read the soldier’s nametag, to see the hint of fear in his eyes, to feel the heat from the gun’s barrel as it charged.

“Friend of Griffin’s, Officer Kinkade?” he asked, nodding back to where the other soldier was still scowling at him. Little Ina must’ve been a hell of a soft spot.

“Surrender now, or I will be forced to shoot.” Kinkade threatened.

“Keep talking and I will be too,” Keith told him, shaking the gun as a quick reminder. Kinkade let out a huff and Keith was smug for a moment, but only a moment as he heard the shuffle of feet behind him. In a moment’s thought, he spun around, firing a shot, barely a warning, at Griffin’s feet. “Two on one isn’t quite fair, now is it? Maybe I should choose one of you and…” he rolled his shoulders, shrugging a bit. “Level the playing field?”


	2. Lance

All Lance wanted to do was go to the market and get some ingredients for his _mama_ so that they could have some good fucking food for dinner tonight, but of _course_ , he chose the one market day Akira fucking Kogane decided to show and rob everybody.

Actually, that was a bit of an overstatement. Akira Kogane wasn’t robbing _anybody_. He was just threatening the lives of the two Garrison soldiers here to oversee the market and make sure nobody was pulling any shady tricks. It was typical to see the highly-trained, elite military in attendance for mediocre events, as they often used little things like these for training, but… Nobody would’ve counted on _this_.

Akira Kogane was a cold-hearted, cruel-witted, asshole of a criminal. He was one of the most wanted in the whole goddamn country and loved to brag about his successes to the very Nobles he stole from. Lance may have been poorer than dirt, but he still hated the dude with a burning passion.

Granted, he had a reason to.

This wasn’t the first time Akira Kogane visited the city of Mesa, right on the edge of what used to be Phoenix (oh, the irony in which the city named after the immortal bird of rebirth was burned to ash after the Second Renaissance, wiped from existence like so many others). He’d shown up barely four years before, when Lance had been young and vainly trying to get into the Garrison like his sister had before him. It had been stupid of him to try, knowing that spots were rare to be given away and even then only to those who showed great natural abilities, of which he had _none_. He’d heard the insults thrown his way time and time again, especially after his College Tests last year, when not one university had invited him to continue learning, to follow his siblings, to support his aging _mama_. The last time Akira Kogane had come to Mesa, he’d stolen Lance’s very chance at the Garrison, humiliating him in front of the examiners.

The test had been to transport a locked briefcase safely across the city. It shouldn’t have been hard, not with how quiet the streets had been that day, but somehow Akira Kogane had decided _that_ was the day he wanted to steal from a gangly little boy with too many dreams.

Akira fucking Kogane had slipped up beside him, chatted him up with that stupid white hair and those stupid purple eyes and those _stupid_ leather gloves, and stole the key to his acceptance.

His chances of getting in had been slim to begin with, but showing up at the next drop point without the test itself?

They’d basically told him that he need not apply in future years.

So, when Lance saw that _asshole_ in the market square, making a fool of the Garrison soldiers, the boys who would’ve been his classmates in another life, well… you couldn’t exactly blame him for watching, now could you?

Hovering on the fringes of the crowd, blues eyes glued to Akira Kogane as he waved a Garrison-issues laser gun in Officer Kinkade’s face, even Lance jumped when the gun fired for the second time in moments.

The first time, it had obviously been a warning shot. Right at Officer Griffin’s feet. Lance had silently dared the criminal to shoot him for real, because Griffin was a cock-sure ass who always acted like he was better than everyone else.

But that hadn’t meant he’d actually wanted him to _do it_.

When the laser shot through Griffin’s chest, the entire crowd froze. Akira Kogane was rutheless, and there were plenty of rumors of how many people he’d killed (Lance currently had a bet going with his siblings about it), but nobody had seen him actually kill someone.

The people around him fled in terror, shouts and chaos drowned out by the rising pounding in Lance’s ears. He was frozen to the spot, mind screaming at him to run home and never look back, to forget that asshole and get on with his life.

But then indigo met blue.

Then Akira’s gorgeous, hypnotizing, purple-as-the-night-sky-above-them eyes found his.

He grinned wickedly and crossed the space between them in moments.

It took Lance a minute to realize that Officer Kinkade was shouting something.

“Sir, remain calm! The situation is under control!”

Like hell it was. Officer Griffin had a gunshot wound in his chest, smoldering from the heat, and Akira fucking Kogane had one of his hands, stupid leather glove and all, gripping his arm.

“Welcome to the game, handsome,” Akira told him, the galaxies in his eyes twinkling with malice and mischief. “You’re officially my leverage.”

It took Lance a minute to realize what was said.

Akira Kogane, criminal extraordinaire and asshole supreme, was using him as leverage in a shoot-out with a Garrison officer.

He was being used as leverage by one of the most feared thieves (and now killers) in the entire country.

And, to make matters worse, in the four years since Lance had seen him…

He’d gotten hotter.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t actually intend for there to be Ina/James subtext in there (I honestly don’t ship it, I prefer them as close friends) but whoop there it is.  
> Like I said, this is more of an AU of my novel-in-progress, but there have obviously been a lot of changes to accommodate the Voltron characters into this. If people like this, I may continue it, but for now, I hope you liked Keith being a badass criminal and kidnapping Lancey Lance.


End file.
